Prompted Freewrite

Supermarket shopping...we try to work out if buying it online is cheaper than the petrol it
costs to go and get it, but even if it was, we still just go and get stuff that may / may not be of
use. Chucking stuff in like Supermarket Sweep, only less orange than Dale Winton.
Remember that time the old man swore at us because we were standing in his way in the
veggie aisle. He got so angry he pretended to phone his son (who was supposedly a murderer)
to come and kill us. What a strange world that man lives in. Although we did watch our backs
all the way home it freaked me out actually. I will always be known to Brys basketball
friends as the one who shouts at old men and makes them crazy. I dont remember doing the
shouting. I cycle past that shop every day and always forget we need stuff. Milk / Cereal /
Loo Roll / Nappies its always the stuff you need at bedtime and only find out you need it at
bedtime. Got my new bike bell beside me, black with white stars. A helpful neighbour tried
pulling the spring off the old one to see how far it would go. Ive got a bike you can spite it if
you like! Revenge is a dish best cycled cold. How far will the spring of a bike bell go?
Answer is all the way till its straight. Now it boings out of the bell like a radio aerial. Yet
another thing to make me look insane.
Word count: 266
Passage of Fiction
Knots and Cycles
Pull it. Pull at it till it snaps right the way off. Thats what I want to do. Snap it. I want to pass
the rage in my stomach through my arm, down through the bell, into the bike. At first I just
pulled the little button on the bell a bit, to see what would happen. It stretched out full really
easily. I hoped it would make her think twice about where she left it.
No. Not a bloody thing happened. Day in and day out its the same story. Clank of the
metal railings through the stair like someones pulling at a wire in your brain. Pedals scrape
along the wall; a bit more paint gets chipped off. Ill sweep that up then, will I? Nobody else
is going to do it, thats for sure. Im the only one in this stair that cares.
Same when she gets back she staggers about attaching the bike to the railing outside
my door like its her railing outside her door. Bash of the railing (it goes right through me)
rattle of chain, a mutter or two under her breath and then the quiet thud of her own door as
she settles for the night.
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Not me though, I dont settle for the night. Im in my chair knowing that every time I
go for a look, another bloody bike will be chained to the railing. They grow like moss, breed
like mice and they are taking over the railing like braces on an awkward teenagers teeth.
I want them gone. I want to open my door and be able to breathe so there is space
and air in the close, not bike upon bike upon bike. Are they trying to barricade me in? None
of them like me, no time for me what so ever.
Theyre no even used! Free storage space for those who like the idea of a cycle but
cant the rain. Or wind. Or that its hard work and a bus would be easier. You can read the
free newspaper and drink your la-dee-da coffee and all that jazz.
I hate these bikes and I hate their owners too. I want to get rid of this knot in my
stomach and give it to these people with their shiny helmets their stupid bloody bells with I
love my bike messages.
Thought they might stop putting their bikes there if things started going wrong with
them. So, I chip away. Here and there Ill have a wee go. This week it will be a broken bell,
next week a flat tyre. Last week I managed to get the reflector light off one. It took 2 whole
weeks of bashing it with my stick on the way past but off it came it flew through the air,
catching the light before it landed beside number ones door mat (dirty, dusty, disgusting door
mat, I might add).
The other day the urge came so strong to snap a brake cable. I had it in my hand, had
it wound round my finger, if Id had my strength it wouldve been off in one quick twist. I
couldnt do it. Got a picture in my head of the bike not stopping and her up the stairs flying
off it. It wasnt right. Shes just young , with two wee kiddies even the knot in my stomach
isnt worth that.
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Its hell trying to get past them when I want to go into the garden. That time I was
lugging all the soil through the close in the black bag. Caught it on a bloody pedal and the
whole lot spilled everywhere. Whats a man to do? It wouldnt have been so bad but I had to
get to the post office for my pension. Missed that an all.
That was the day I got the reflector off and Ill admit to a wee smile of victory for a
change. Revenge! It didnt taste sweet exactly, but it did taste like a cup of tea and a
digestive. And wee rest from all the excitement. My stomach felt a bit better after that as well.
Word count: 697
Commentary
In the free write I wrote about a neighbour breaking my bike bell. I realised that the spring of
the bell had been pulled out straight, done on purpose.
From here, I decided to write a piece of fiction from the perspective the bell breaker. Id
written about an angry man in the freewrite so developed an old male character. Having
written about spite earlier, I used that as my starting point in shaping his character.
I wanted to show contradictory traits as suggested in Activity 2.2 in the Workbook
(Workbook page 36) and focussed on how he felt his neighbours were acting un-neighbourly
toward him, whilst being un-neighbourly himself. I wanted to show a weakness in him (his
use of a stick, lack of strength) whilst displaying a need to use force on the bikes.
Once Id developed the contradictory traits and shown his weaker side, I felt some
compassion for him giving him more depth.
I created a writers notebook as suggested in Chapter 2 of the Workbook and spend bus
journeys writing down observations. I have dedicated a section to practicing similes - seeing
likenesses in unlike things and collecting possible images, similes and metaphors
(Workbook page 35). When thinking about the bikes chained to the railing I came up with the
simile: they are taking over the railing like braces on an awkward teenagers teeth. After
reading Chapter 3: The Senses section (Workbook page 50) I took great care in developing
less obvious similes and felt that connecting the bikes with braces would provide good
imagery of mounting metal on metal whilst the use of the word awkward would add to the
idea of the unwelcome mess. I added the phrase at the end of two obvious similes to make it
stand out.
Word: 297
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Bibliography
Linda Anderson (ed.) Creative Writing: A workbook with readings, Abingdon, Routledge /
Milton Keynes, The Open University